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For the powerful woman wasting their breaths

By Hope HausmanPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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Photo by Gabriel Meinert on Unsplash

Let's talk about a game

where you play with me all the same,

my mind

my body

my soul

it doesn't matter to you,

you want it all

but not in the way that I pray for

not in the way that I'll beg for,

in the way that you hide

that you tuck inside your pocket and smile,

"I haven't talked to her in a while".

He said I was lovely.

Lovely?

I am a fire storm

I am a wrecking ball swinging your way

I am a boiling pot of rage

you want to toy with me?

Oh, how naive you must be

for I am the one pointing the way

for I am the one letting you stay

for I am the one heading your plea

"please don't leave me!".

I can smell it

the desperation, you dwell in it

it seeps into your skin

a longing that claws at you from deep within,

we see your lies

her and I,

you cannot hide what you try to deny

you cannot hide from what's inside.

You'll be back for more,

asking for another chance to dance inside my heart

but the entrance is sealed,

your bed has been made and decision insists

"lie with me here,

so we may reap what we sow"

- x

love poems
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About the Creator

Hope Hausman

I am someone who loves to write and who sees everything as a movie waiting to be written inside her head! Unfortunately, I'm also a writer with little confidence in myself. Hopefully, this helps!

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